The Dead Man
by sahdah
Summary: Fan theory about the fate of Jon Snow after A Dance with Dragons. The Red priests seem inclined to have Dany as their leader. If you have fan theories I'd love to read them in the reviews.


…_Is this what death is?..._

The man, although young in years to some, stood up. At once he realized he was naked but it made no difference, there was no cold now.

In the distance a flash of blue captured his attention and he walked to it in a trance. Only when he stood directly in front of it did he realize it was a winter rose. The most beautiful he had ever seen. It was growing from a chink in the sheer face of the wall.

As he stood there contemplating the beauty in the harsh landscape he felt compelled to pluck the rose. When his sword hand reached out and his fist closed about the delicate stem, he cried out in pain as his hand was engulfed in flames. The various knife wounds he had until now ignored began gushing blood and he could not let go of the vicious flower.

The pain transported him to another time and place.

The scene to him was as alien as the Wall would be to any southern born Westerosi dweller. The air was balmy and thick with the sound of the wind blowing through the emerald green grass. There was nothing to be seen for miles in any direction. Again he wondered if he was dying as he ran his hands through the long green grass, somehow that didn't seem possible. There was the soft sound of skin on the delicate blades.

_…You know nothing, Jon Snow…_

The wind whispered her words as he walked to the out cropping of rocks in the distance. Somewhere in his chest there was an ache created by her void in the world. It was a feeling he did not allow himself and it crashed over him now unbidden brought on by the desolation he walked through now…

His muscles pulled and strained his fingers grasped for hold as he finally hoisted himself to the summit of the rocky outcrop. The heat drew beads and rivulets of perspiration out of his spent body. Sprawled out on the top of the world he rested while his chest heaved breathing in the heavy air. What was he doing here? Where was this place? It hardly seemed possible that he could have created such a fantastic scene in his mind. He did not have had the imagination to create such an alien space. For one wild moment he missed the fierce cold and muted whites and blues of the Wall. What was it that brought him here? The green was too vivid, the openness more crushing than cruel confining Wall he called home.

A thrumming sound filled his mind as the sun baked and dried his sweat leaving streaks of rock dust on his skin. When a sudden dark washed over him he opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the sun once more. The thrumming, no… more a steady beating…of strong wings…it would seem, grew louder. He sat up shading his eyes trying to see what was coming for him, there was only green as far as he could see. A shrieking bleat sounded from the sky. He wished he had Longclaw in his hand. In that moment Jon truly felt naked.

The sound ripped through the open air once more, raising the hairs on his neck. Jon looked up at the glaring sky, if his opponent was air born he was a skilled combatant, because of the open terrain the only possible means from attack could come from the direction of the sun, there was no other place to hide.

Those were his last thoughts as fire engulfed him from the heavens. The pain was far worse than when he burned his hand fighting the Other.

"RHAEGAL, NOO!"

_Ygritte…_could she have come to be with him as he burned? Through the smoke and haze, Jon saw a black comet with a mane of silver white…_how strange. _ Ygritte had been kissed by fire, not by ice, and even she spearwife and warrior could not tame a fire demon.

A woman smaller of stature and yet more fierce than his wildling had been, hair the color of the starts and eyes a startling shade of violet approached him. She was reaching for his face as the flames licked her sides, her face held concern and a look of wonder. Jon wanted to protect this seeming angel from the flames that were engulfing their figures, yet she seemed to walk through them untouched and unbothered.

"Rhaegar…" was the whispered sound on her tongue and Jon was lost to the void. No, his name was Jon, and he would never be able to tell her, his white haired savior. The fire raged on…

…_You know nothing, Jon Snow…_

…

The Red woman watched the flames as they grew wild leaping, the shapes moving too fast for the untrained eyes of others but she saw the visions her Lord meant her to see. The flames started diminishing as the man on the bed began to moan and move. The direwolf made a low moan and lifted his great head to stare at the Red Priestess. "I told him he would have need of my friendship." She said, as she admired the beast again, it would have been preferable to her that he be as red as his eyes but at least he had red eyes.

Melisandre woman walked to the man on the bed and observed the scars that were now only slightly smoldering. It seemed to be that this was the _"snow" _ she kept seeing in her visions while searching for Azor Ahai, only time would tell now if he would be the one to deliver them from the Great Other…

**A/N: I've been impatiently waiting for Winds of Winter to see if GRRM really did kill off my favorite Snow. Until then I refuse to believe it. Reviews/comments/notes welcome. Any wild theories you want to share…even better. **


End file.
